Porcelain
by bittasummer
Summary: Oneshot. [Stolen glances and lingered touches. That summed them up. She wanted him to take her and he wouldn't. Always staring at her through a glass wall; looking, but never reaching out to taste her porcelain skin.] Mature scenes. Eleven/Amy.


**A/N: **

**Summary:** AU examination of Amy and the Doctor's relationship throughout series 5 - 7 with an alternative ending to the Pond's demise. Pairing: Amy/Eleven. Plenty of angst, but fluffy ending. Rated M for mature scenes. Theme: porcelain

Review?

* * *

**porcelain**

**::**

He came into her life at a time where she had no one. Her parents were gone, Aunt Sharon was missing in action most of the time, and she was just Amelia Pond, that Scottish girl in an English village. She really didn't make any sense. Everything about her was a mystery, an anomaly, an impossible thing. And like everything else that intrigued the Doctor, he couldn't resist an impossible thing. Maybe it was the fiery red hair or the accent or the way she lit up an entire room by just entering, but she was special and the Doctor sensed it in the same way that he was able to look upon the universe and see things that no other living creature could see.

Over time, he grew more than fond of her. He began to _need_ her; like his body needed two hearts, like his existence needed his time machine, like his name needed secrecy. He began to need her. Somehow, she had slipped through his veins and become some essential to his survival. He needed to see her, see that flame red hair, that porcelain skin. Needed to hear her infectious laugh. At some point, she just became a part of him. He wondered if it started when he met her. Amelia Pond, with the name out of a fairytale. That little lonely girl living in a house with one too many rooms.

There was something magical that happened that night. A madman fell out of the sky in his blue box and crashed into her garden. Like an answer to her prayers, he came. He wasn't normal, but who was? He ate most of her fridge and then dipped fish fingers in custard. He didn't make any sense, but Amelia Pond wasn't scared of anything, apart from the crack on her wall. Two parts of time and space that should never have touched. The Doctor realised how hard that must have been for her, to hear that he wasn't real, a figment of her imagination. He suspected that perhaps she might have believed them, after a while.

He knew it was wrong, to steal her away, when he knew exactly how things would end. How things always ended around him. In death. It was inevitable; he was a Time Lord, she was human. It was never going to work out, but a connection was made that night he fell from the sky. It survived all those years until he returned, to save her. It was in that very moment, that he declared himself the Doctor on top of the hospital roof in Leadworth, that her faith in him was securely and irrevocably implanted. She suspected that the Doctor felt it too. He took her away, partly because he was selfish and lonely, and partly because he knew she was an anomaly. Something to be saved.

That's what he did basically. He was the Doctor; a warrior, a God, a leader, a saviour, and not just in Amelia Pond's eyes. He came into her life at a time where she had no one, and that stays with a girl. He was the anomaly, to her. The impossible thing, and he didn't even realise. Both so intrigued by the other, both so irrevocably bound together that nothing could keep them apart. The crack in her wall was caused by the explosion of the TARDIS, and therefore their meeting was written in the stars. A fixed event, something so completely untouchable. Amy likes to think of them as two jigsaw puzzle pieces that fit together.

She doesn't like to talk about the twelve years he was gone. Or the other two. He knows there was a gap in her heart, and not just because of the lack of himself. He knows she missed her parents, her home. There was a void, stuck in her stomach that ripped down to her gut and tore away at her ability to be happy. She wanted to be saved, she expected it, and he wasn't there. He just wasn't there, and Amy doesn't tell him this, but there's years of her life she'd rather forget. Those horrible years of feeling depressed, helpless, trapped, _alone_. And there was Rory, a friend from childhood who always managed to be around. He played dress up with her, he sang with her, he made her feel again. He brought some sun back into her life. She remembers days where all she cared about was seeing Rory.

And then suddenly, there he was. Her raggedy Doctor, wearing the same clothes with the same messy hair and the same apple she gave him. He talked and talked and she didn't let herself believe it. Not yet. Not until he realised that he had been gone twelve years. And then she knew. Everything was real, he hadn't changed, he hadn't even aged. He was all she could think about, chasing after him, following him blindly into the dark, begging to be noticed. He did notice her, and she noticed that. How could you not notice Amelia Pond? Red hair and pale limbs and Scottish accent. Skin like porcelain. So fragile, so breakable.

He stole her in the dead of night. Came back, another two years later and stole her from her house in her nightie. He hadn't done it intentionally, he only meant to be away another _five_ minutes, but the TARDIS was still regenerating, and time travel wasn't linear. In those two years he was away, Amy had never experienced such turmoil. There was a part of her that was immensely happy, to know that he wasn't fictitious, that he was real, and then there was another part of her that sat by her bedroom window every night, just waiting for him to come back. A sad, lonely part that pushed Rory away and cried into her pillow and took ice cold showers because it was better than doing something stupid to make her _feel_ again.

She wasn't going to say no. She took his hand and that was that. Fate was sealed, right from the very beginning. Everything about Amy thrilled the Doctor, from her odd quirky trivia that had no relevance to her life, to the compassion she showed, the feistiness that protected her and the way she looked upon all of creation, like it was a piece of fine art and she was the artist, ready to fill in the colours. Her ability to bring light to any situation drew him to her like a moth to a flame. She was infectious, bleeding into his hearts and veins and every other vital organ that he needed to breathe and stay alive. He needed her, and she needed him.

But there was still Rory, and the Doctor was still an immortal time travelling alien that would outlive her. It wouldn't work out. Amy can remember the day Rory proposed. She was baking cookies and he came into the kitchen, looking nervous. Amy swallowed, trying not to picture the last time the Doctor spoke to Rory. Everything reminded her of him. Fish fingers. Custard. Rory. Leadworth. Her back garden. He was _everywhere_, and _nowhere_. Rory looked uneasy and Amy couldn't be bothered fixing a fake smile onto her face to try and make him believe that everything was fine. She was going to end it, and just as she opened her mouth, he got down on one knee and proposed, a little red ring box in his hand.

Amy can remember everything about that moment. She dropped her bowl of dough mix and it splattered everywhere; her clothes, the walls, Rory's face. She stood there, staring with a wide eyed expression that was so Amelia Pond. Rory looked like he was bracing himself for the rejection and then she realised. It just came to her. Two versions of what her life could be like. If she rejected him, she would spend the rest of her life alone, pining away for a lonely God without a home, a wanderer, a nomad. She'd become a spinster, a former shell of her self. People would call her the crazy cat lady and she would have many cats. However, if she accepted Rory's proposal, then she would always be with someone. She wouldn't be alone.

Rory and her would grow old, have children and grandchildren and probably die of old age on the same day at the same time. Life would be mundane, normal, boring, but at least she wouldn't be _alone_. So she said yes. Rory kissed her and Amy kissed him back. She put on her ring, and phoned everyone she knew, starting with her aunt Sharon. The people of Leadworth sighed collectively with relief. A lot of people worried about Amelia Pond. She seemed so eager to distance herself from reality, to shrink away inside her own head, dreaming of her raggedy Doctor.

Everyone was so happy when they found out she was marrying Rory Williams, a normal man with a steady job; someone who could take care of Amy, stop her from shrinking away completely. Over time, she became resolute that her Doctor would never return, and after a long hard talk with herself, she convinced herself that it _should_ be this way. Her and Rory. He wasn't all bad. He was unconventionally handsome, with a kind heart and a good soul. He took care of people, he was adored and loved by everyone in Leadworth and he was dedicated to Amy. She realised how lucky she was to find someone like that, and after some time, it didn't feel like pretending anymore.

The Doctor was distant dream and Amy was going to marry and love Rory Williams. And then she heard it. The TARDIS noise, the night before her wedding. Sometimes she suspects if he did that on purpose. He stole her and she let him. Suddenly, everything that had been muted and black and white in her head was roaring to life in big animated colours that demanded to be enjoyed. She clung to his tweed jacket and he inhaled her scent, soaking her in and imprinting her on his hearts forever. For him, this had all been fifteen minutes ago. For her, he was fourteen years late.

Stolen glances and lingered touches. That summed them up. She wanted him to take her and he wouldn't. Always staring at her through a glass wall, looking but never reaching out to taste her porcelain skin. She doesn't know what possessed her after battling the angels, but she didn't want to get married. She wanted him. He'd be lying utterly and completely if he said he didn't want her back, that he didn't want to kiss her back, but she was Amelia Pond, a human anomaly and engaged to Rory Williams. She would never outlive him. One way or another, they would both get hurt. They would both lose each other. It was better that they stayed friends. After all, it was Amy and Rory, like it was meant to be.

Amy only asked Rory to come with them because she couldn't call off the wedding and she couldn't get out of the situation, so she stalled it. She didn't want to break Rory's heart because he was Rory, and he had always been there for her, always. She knew she would be content with him if they married. She knew she'd settle down and love him, but there would always be that ache, that _ache_, that craved something more. That spark. That connection that she only has with the Doctor, and Amy suspected that Rory, deep down, knew. He knew what she was doing and he went with her anyway, because he was Rory and he was born with an endless amount of hope and faith. Amy admired that about him.

The Doctor grinned and bared it all. Amy was back to normal – whatever normal for her was – and the TARDIS was another person fuller. He gave them their own room and left them to it, pottering around the console and fixing things like he did. Everything came to a head, the day the Dream Lord invaded them. Amy always knew the Doctor carried a lot of baggage, a lot of guilt but she never imagined he had a dark side, a terrible side that loathed everything and everyone. She suspected that he kept that part of him completely locked away from sight, especially from her. The first dream, of Leadworth and being pregnant and Rory, felt so real. It was real, and it was terrifying.

The second dream, of being in the TARDIS, was home to Amy. It felt just as real as Leadworth. But being in the TARDIS, she had total and complete faith that he would save her. Save them. Of course the Doctor thought the real world was the TARDIS, with Amy. The Dream Lord looked at her, told her he knew her dreams and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment when she found out that the Doctor was the Dream Lord. That meant he had seen her dreams. Those dreams, the dreams that kept her tossing and turning at night and left her wanting. The dreams of him. It was obvious there and then that inside, he wanted to keep her, like his alter ego suggested. Amy wanted to choose the Doctor, but Rory was there and he was dead and Amy couldn't stand the unbearable guilt.

_He always leaves you, doesn't he? Alone in the dark. Never apologises._

It broke her inside, to know that he hated himself as much as the Dream Lord did. She laughed it off and danced with Rory and tried to act like everything was okay, but it wasn't. The Doctor hated the fact that a little tiny part of him was happy when Rory crumbled away in the Leadworth dream. He couldn't help but let himself imagine a world where it was just him and Amy. A place only _they_ could be. He stared the Dream Lord in the eyes before they got inside the camper van and he knew that this world was the dream. Amy killed them both to save Rory and a fester of undeniable rage bubbled up inside him. Once again, he was the cause of everyone's misery. He watched Amy, press her lips into Rory's and his stomach churned. He internally scolded himself. Why did he ever think he had a chance?

Amy found him later that night, frowning and looking pensive. She wanted to explain to him. That she was only trying so hard with Rory because she knew that nothing was ever going to happen with him. The Doctor wouldn't understand. He didn't understand that night in her bedroom and he didn't understand now. He was hunched over the console, trying to look busy, when Amy placed a tentative hand on his back, feeling his muscles tighten underneath her touch. She stepped an inch closer and felt the heat coming from his body. He glanced at her slightly, saying her name in a hardened whisper.

"You've seen my dreams," she whispered back, voice dry.

The Doctor managed a small smirk. "Yes, I suppose I have." A silence rocked the console and Amy suddenly retreated her hand from his back. Instantly, he twirled round to face her until it was him cornering her against the console this time. Amy took a few steps backwards as the Doctor invaded her space.

"That's not fair," Amy felt tears being to surface in her eyes, daring to fall onto her creamy porcelain skin.

"Amelia Pond," the Doctor looked at her, "Go back to Rory."

"No."

"Now."

"No!" Amy cried, her face inches away from his, "That was you. The Dream Lord. Your alter ego, the one that leered at me and propositioned me and taunted me to choose you, not Rory. That was _you_."

"Yes, I know," there was a white hot anger lingering in his voice and Amy was suddenly very wary about what she said next. An angry Doctor was not a sane Doctor. He paused and then said, "Is that all, Pond? You just wanted to clarify that with me?" he spat bitterly at her.

"Never mind, Doctor," Amy tried to slip past him but he pushed her back and placed two hands at either side of her, trapping her completely against the console. Amy let out a shaky breath. "Doctor, you're scaring me."

"No I'm not, you're lying," the Doctor breathed back. "Come on, Amy. You wanted to talk. Let's talk. I am the Dream Lord, yes, the bad part of me is him. It's who I am. I am equally bad as I am good. You might think you know me, but that would be a mistake, because I'm the one who knows you. Your entire life. Not the other way around."

"So the Dream Lord was only saying those things to me, to hurt me?" Amy swallowed.

"If you like," the Doctor was sounding like himself again, "Really, he only played on what was already there. Leadworth was Rory's dream, psychic pollen, it tapped into his mind, into his subconscious and used that as a playground."

"And the TARDIS was your dream," Amy nodded back.

The Doctor smiled slowly, reaching up to twist his hand into her flame red hair. She inched towards him. "Oh Amy, Amy, Amy," he pressed their foreheads together and winced. "Amy, the TARDIS wasn't my dream."

"What?"

"It wasn't mine," the Doctor whispered back, his eyes glazing over, "My dream wouldn't have included Rory."

Amy put her hands on his shoulders and steadied herself. A chill went down her spine as she realised. The TARDIS was her dream. A place for the Doctor, and Rory.

"Doesn't it seem weird?" the Doctor placed his hands on her cheeks, "That you would dream of a world in the TARDIS, instead of being in Leadworth?"

"You sound like him," Amy couldn't help herself.

"I am him," the Doctor said. "I've seen your dreams, Amy Pond, and they're... everything I want."

Amy swallowed. Hope swelled in her chest.

"But it's everything we can never have," the Doctor pressed his entire body upon hers and let the scent of her hair fill up his nose. "I'm a Time Lord, Amy, and Rory is _human_. He can give you everything I can't."

"So that's it?" Amy's growing tears finally over spilled. "I go on with Rory and pretend that nothing is wrong?"

The Doctor stayed silent.

"Is this because of River Song?" Amy suddenly felt the name bitter her tongue.

The Doctor let out a breath of air, "Definitely not. Most definitely not. River Song is... I don't know who she is, but I know who you are. And it's not because of her."

"I'm always going to be here," Amy added firmly. "Always. I'll always choose this."

And then the Doctor released her and they never spoke of that conversation again. Off they went, on more travels. Rory's death and non existence became a bit of an issue. The Doctor couldn't stand to watch Amy sob over him, because like it or not, Rory had become such a huge integral part of her life, filling in for the Doctor since he was a child. She loved him. Maybe it wasn't the stuff of romance novels or death do us part or even, in love, love, but she did love him. He was like a part of her, a limb.

The Doctor stopped himself from doing what the Dream Lord whispered at him to do. The Dream Lord whispered into the dark dusty corners of his mind, telling him to swoop in and steal Amy for good. Ditch the ring, take the girl and never mention the bumbling English man again. Amy was still subconsciously sad and the Doctor was constantly making up for it by taking her places and showing her wonderful things. He began to think she thought of it as dates. Well, that picnic in the park didn't really help.

She even began holding his hand, intertwining their fingers and leaning against him. He revelled in the feel of her; her touch, her scent. He hated himself for enjoying it so much but he did. Amy was almost his. He held her porcelain hand and realised that if he squeezed too tight that he just might break her. That thought scared him half to death. He was this close to taking her into his arms and kissing her, and psyching himself up to do it, when they were summoned away, to the Pandorica.

A part of him was happy to see Rory again, because he had grown fond of him, and the other part was disappointed. He knew eventually Amy would remember and there would be a triangle again. A problem. There was always a problem, always something holding them back. Amy felt it too. It was like, they were destined to be beside each other, but never destined to be together. A slither of resentment went through the Doctor as Rory declared he would wait 2,000 years to protect Amy. The Doctor would have done more, but he was the Doctor. He needed to take action _now_.

And it was around that time that the Doctor realised he and Amy would never be. Amy couldn't possibly break it off with the man she lost, found, and who waited 2,000 years for her. There'd be gratitude, and loyalty and guilt. And love. Amy couldn't break it off with Rory now; the guilt for everything he'd done for her would consume her, make her as bitter as the Doctor. And then it was out of their hands, really, after that. The universe rebooted itself. Amy forgot the Doctor, like a hole in her head, he was just... gone. No traces left. Nothing to keep her from finally getting married. So she put on her wedding dress, dismissed her sudden crying as 'tears of joy' and tied the knot with Rory Williams.

But she was sad, and Rory knew. And then she saw the TARDIS diary and a woman walking past – a familiar woman – and she suddenly remembered, like a spark reignited in her mind. The blue box appeared and Amy practically jumped over her wedding table to get to him. She couldn't believe it. She had gotten married, and the man she really loved, she'd forgotten. The Doctor congratulated them, because he's the Doctor, and everybody danced and Amy wore her best smile. Rory laughed and everybody partied. Amy slipped away when night fell. The Doctor found her at the back of the wedding reception, freezing and shivering. She was smoking.

He walked over to her and plucked the cigarette from her fingers, "These are disgusting. Bad for you." He stamped on the cigarette and looked up at Amy's deadpan expression. "Happy Wedding Times then."

"Yeah," Amy turned her back on him and glanced up at the sky. "Happy Wedding Times alright."

"You remembered me," the Doctor smiled to himself, if not sadly. "I knew you would."

"And you dressed for the occasion," Amy said, and there was a hint of bitterness in her voice. It killed her that he stepped out already dressed in Wedding attire. Like he knew she'd end up marrying Rory anyway. Like he was always right. That frustrated her to no end. She wanted to thump her fists against his chest and scream at him. She wanted to tell him that if she hadn't forgotten him, she wouldn't have married Rory. She suspects he probably already knows.

"Amy Williams," the Doctor tastes the sour surname with a wince that she can't see, "Are you upset?"

"Don't call me that," Amy hisses and moves further away from him.

"Amy!" the Doctor follows her. "Amy, stop. What's wrong?"

"You know!" she screams in his face, because he does. He's always known. "I'm not happy! I'm still sad! I'm on a predestined course with Rory, you know that as well as I do. And you are with River!"

The discomfort lingers in the air. Amy's said it now. Said the truth. Everything with them has always just been bad timing. Whenever Amy wanted the Doctor, her guilt for Rory kept her back. When she was going to call off her wedding, she completely forgot the _one_ reason why she wanted to, so she ended up getting married anyway. And as for River, well, it seems like River already has that one planned out. Amy's lip curls just thinking about _it_. The Doctor's free will hangs like a fine thread where River's concerned. How can he make his own choices when River's always telling him that they've already been made?

Amy takes bitter pleasure in knowing that if the Doctor had met River in the right order, he probably wouldn't be heading where he's heading with her. Because Amy knows that River is his future wife and she's known since her very first meeting with her. It's not hard to tell. The way River talks to him, and treats him. It makes Amy's blood go cold. And her Doctor, the one standing in front of her, doesn't want River Song. She can feel it in her bones. The Doctor doesn't want to screw up the timelines so he's keeping his mouth shut but if he had a choice – which he doesn't – then River would be nothing more than a memory.

Amy's crying and the Doctor's breathing heavily, his top hat fallen from his head as he paces. There's so many unspoken things between them, and a lot that doesn't need to be said. And just like that, in the dead cold of the night, the Doctor grabs her waist, shoves her back into the wall so she will shiver against him and claim her lips as his own. Amy succumbs immediately, but there is a fire in her kiss that makes her just as dominant as he is. Their lips battle with each other, never slowing, never stopping, just raging on. She's not cold anymore. She doesn't even care.

They continue to kiss, for what feels like forever, when Amy pulls away because she needs to breathe. Her chest pants up and down and Amy leans against him tiredly. The Doctor pulls down the front of her dress and places kisses on the tops of her breasts. She clings to him, she's never felt this _alive_, this free. This is her choice, not anyone else's. Not destiny's choice. Not fate's choice. Amy's choice. The way it should have been, from the very start.

The Doctor wants to get her inside the TARDIS, but Amy's not going anywhere. She yanks off his jacket, tugs at his shirt and unbuckles his trousers. His hands slide up her thighs, until he feels the garter, and with one simple tug, he yanks it off, discarding it to the dirty ground. He hikes her wedding dress up, and she jumps up onto his hips, her back against the wall supporting her against him. He's never done this in this generation before, and he wants to warn Amy, that Time Lord intercourse is so much more than human intercourse but it's Amy, and she's kissing him and telling him to shut up so he does.

They're not quiet. The Doctor drives into her, again and again and again, and Amy nearly buckles, gasping and panting his name until she can feel him inside her head, wandering into the deepest darkest corners of her mind and imprinting himself there. She screams that she's his, that she'll _always_ be his, and the Doctor can feel her love for him radiate like the explosions. He's never felt anybody's love for him the way Amy does. She would do anything for him. She would die for him. She would kill for him. Her love is as unfaltering and unconditional as it could get. The Doctor wishes there was a way he could make her feel his love for her.

They bathe in each other. The Doctor kisses her neck as they climax together and Amy runs her fingers through his messy brown mane. He puts her back down on the ground and yanks his trousers back up before anybody can see. Amy is sweating and panting and gasping and the Doctor remembers that Time Lord sex lasts longer and hits harder than usual, especially for humans. He can't believe he's just made love to Amy in her wedding dress on her wedding night but he's done it, and being with her is like something he's never ever experienced before. Amy lets him hold her. She nestles her head into his chest and whispers, "That was ours. Nobody will ever be able to take that away from us."

The Doctor agrees, "I have a fantastic memory. I'll definitely never forget it."

"Doctor, I love you," Amy looks up at him, "I know I shouldn't, because I'm human, and you're Time Lord, and I have Rory and you have River, but I do. I've always loved you and I always will."

"Amelia Pond," the Doctor caresses her hair, "Whenever I call you 'the girl who waited', it really means I love you."

Amy's eyes filled with tears, "Whenever I say 'raggedy man', it means I love you." She steadied herself on her feet and looked at her Doctor, "Is this it? Is this all we get? One quick night behind the back of my wedding reception?"

"What's the alternative?" the Doctor cradled her face. "Rory is safe. And I'm not. You've had enough pain, Amelia. I can't watch you die, for me. Not like the others. Not to you."

"Doctor," Amy shook her head, touching his cheek. "Don't say that. You're my raggedy man."

"And you're the girl who waited," the Doctor placed a shaky kiss on her forehead and drifted back off around the corner, fixing his clothes.

Amy wiped her tears away, and yanked the front of her wedding dress up. She smiled brightly that night, despite the pain inside her.

Life went on, or time did. Amy settled into marriage life with Rory. The Doctor and Amy played their roles. If Rory suspected anything was up, he never mentioned it. And then came Lake Silencio, Utah. Amy bounded toward the Doctor like no time had passed at all. He hugged her, clung to her, smelled her hair and whispered, "Amelia Pond," into her ear. A chain of events happened after that, something which still haunts Amy to this very day.

When he died on that lake, in front of her, she felt like a piece of her had died as well. She sobbed into his chest, held his tweed jacket and whispered, "Raggedy man," into his ear over and over and over again. Rory pulled her away and River and Canton Delaware helped cremate the Doctor's body. But then of course, in typical Doctor fashion, his younger self appeared and Amy grabbed his chest and hugged him like there was no tomorrow. He gazed at her with worry, checked her temperature and twirled about before declaring that she was as fit as a horse. He couldn't know of course. He really couldn't know.

The second River and Rory were distracted however, Amy yanked the Doctor into the nearest toilet and locked the door. Before the Doctor could even ask what was happening, Amy's mouth attacked his, kissing him with such passion that it should have burned him. She clawed at his jacket, forced her tongue inside his mouth, and slipped her fingers under his shirt, needing to _feel_ him, just to make sure he wasn't really dead. The Doctor asked no questions. He kissed her back, ran his hands down her sides and began to ravage her chest.

"Amy," the Doctor gasped, "We really have to stop this."

"I know," Amy agreed. She was already dragging him down to the ground and grabbing at his belt.

"Amy," the Doctor stopped her hands and forced her head to look at him, "Amy. What's happening? What's wrong?"

"I lost you," Amy said hoarsely and she truly meant it. "I lost you."

The Doctor shook his head, "No, never. _Never_."

"Prove it," her eyes bore deep into his, "_Prove_ it." So he did. He took her on the floor of some tacky highway diner, her nails driving into his back and his fingers exploring every part of her. He kissed her when she moaned, because she moaned a lot. He was inside her mind, knowing every part of her, seeing all those new memories with Rory he'd missed out on. And then they fixed their clothes and Amy left first and then the Doctor left a considerable amount of time after. Nobody asked why both their hair was messy or why they suddenly needed drinks.

Chaos ensued, like it usually did. The Doctor was held prisoner, they were being chased, Canton was working as a double agent and there were suddenly Silence around, creatures that didn't exist in your mind after you looked away from them. It settled down and Amy and Rory returned to the TARDIS, like it should have been. It was still horrible, for Amy, to keep that secret from him, a secret that he should know, but River said it would have been detrimental if he found out and Amy was too bitter to argue.

Amy knew Rory would never understand but she had to tell the Doctor first. She was pregnant. Granted she'd only slept with the Doctor twice, but there was a chance that the baby could be Gallifreyan. Imagine that. A Gallifreyan baby on aboard. The Doctor wouldn't be able to handle that. The Doctor took her hand, and placed his over her stomach. A wave of emotion came over her. _Yes_. It should be his baby. She could give him another Time Lord. She could do that for him. She wanted the baby to be his so badly and secretly he did too.

When she was taken by the Silence, she couldn't stop herself from almost blowing everything. _I love you. I know you think it ought to be him. But it's not, it's you. And when I see you again, I'm __going to tell you properly, just to see your stupid face. My life was so boring before you just dropped out of the sky. So just get your stupid face where I can see it. Okay? Okay? _ The Doctor couldn't stop himself from listening in. He couldn't. His hearts swelled and the fury inside of him was so immense that he was ready to rip anything apart from existence if they kept him from Amelia Pond. Even when Rory assumed she was talking about the Doctor, he still went after her. She had to give him some credit. Once she was rescued, she let Rory believe it was about him, but the Doctor knew. The Doctor knew she was talking about him.

But then by the time Rory found out, Amy had done another test. False positive. She wasn't pregnant. The Doctor gave her a weird look and carried on. He didn't tell her, about the TARDIS scanning results. A consistent positive/negative would appear and the Doctor knew that could only mean one thing. It had something to do with him. They were back to lingering glances, secret stares, slightly brushing up against one another. As time went on, Amy began to notice the Doctor's strange attitude towards her. He didn't like being alone with her anymore and he always fretted about how she was feeling, always insisted on her taking a rest. Amy still knew about Lake Silencio and the Doctor knew something was wrong with Amy. They were both keeping secrets from each other now and they both hated it.

And then came the day that the Doctor killed her flesh clone and vowed to find her. When she woke up, she was going into labour. The shock was immense and all she kept screaming was the Doctor's name. So she was pregnant. She had been replaced, before America. That's why she kept seeing Madame Kovarium everywhere. She was convinced that her baby was a product of the Doctor. The first time she held Melody Pond, she was absolutely convinced it was the Doctor's baby, but Madame Kovarium told her that Rory was the father. Amy swallowed something hollow in her throat but ground her teeth together and said nothing at all.

While she knew that the Doctor and Rory would always find her, there was something bitter harbouring in the pit of Amy's stomach towards the Doctor. Where was he? She needed him, and where was he? Where was Rory? Hell, where was River?

"Someone's been a naughty girl," Madame Kovarium said one morning as she entered the white prison Amy was being kept in. Melody was sleeping in Amy's arms.

Amy bristled.

"I've been peaking inside your dreams, Amelia Pond," Madame Kovarium drawled and Amy tensed up.

"Stay out of my head!" Amy cried, "Leave me and Melody alone."

"I wonder what your husband would say if he knew that you only dreamed about a certain old Time Lord," Madame Kovarium continued. "It's a pity this child wasn't his, really. She would have been much more special."

"She is special, just the way she is," Amy hissed at her.

It was hell, but Amy got through it. Madame Kovarium took her baby away and the Doctor and Rory came to rescue her. Took their time though. The Doctor's rage was something Amy had never seen before. If Amy hadn't been scared of the Doctor before, she was now. And even though she loved him with everything in her being, she still couldn't help but blame him, when she found out that Melody was taken, as a weapon to destroy the Doctor.

The Doctor winced, able to look at Amy and know that he was the cause of her pain. And then if that wasn't enough, River announced who she was. Finally. Amy suddenly felt a surge of guilt tremor through her when she realised that she woman she'd been slating mentally since their very first meeting was in fact, her _daughter_. Rory and Amy's daughter. A child of the TARDIS. A hybrid, if you will.

Amy and Rory returned home and the Doctor went looking for Melody, but he already knew, just like River did. She had to grow up the way she'd grown up, for everything to slot into place in the present. Her childhood couldn't be rewritten. The Doctor knew that and Amy clung to the thought that one day she was going to be able to hold her baby in her arms again, but she wasn't.

Getting Amy to be near him again was a struggle. His TARDIS appeared in Leadworth one night, and Amy looked out of her window, seeing him leaning on his trusty old blue box. She almost didn't go out to see him but Rory was asleep and Amy wanted an update on Melody. "Where is she?" Amy demanded the second she left her house and strode up to the Doctor, "Doctor, where's my daughter?"

"Amy," the Doctor whispered, "Amy, listen to me. River is fine. She's safe. Everything works out."

"Where's my baby?" Amy looked at him. "My newborn, where is she? Is she in that orphanage in the 1960's, is that where they took her? Go and get her now! Let's go!" she charged past the doors and towards the console. The Doctor traipsed in after her.

"Amy, I can't, you know this," the Doctor ran a hand through his brown mane of hair stressfully, "Amy, she has to grow up alone. She has to be put inside the spacesuit, and then regenerate into Mels, and then River. It all has to happen the way it already has. If we go and get her right now, we'd change everything. The butterfly effect. Impossible. If we change the slightest thing, she might not even be who she is now."

Amy glared at him and he felt the entire force of her hatred.

"Hit me," the Doctor told her, "Go on, Amelia, hit me, I deserve it!"

"Get out of my garden," Amy spat at him, "And don't come back here unless you've found my baby," she made to go past him on the TARDIS ramp but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him. She struggled naturally, fighting against the love that was still so present in her heart.

"Amelia!" the Doctor cried.

"No, let me go!" Amy fought to have her wrists back but his grip on her fragile porcelain skin tightened, sure to mark her.

"Amy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Amy, I love you, Amy, the girl who waited, I'm so, so sorry—" the Doctor rambled, trying to get her to stop fighting him, trying to get her to understand that he needed her, like she needed him.

"Where's my daughter?" Amy began to sob, thumping her fists against the Doctor's chest as she collapsed onto the TARDIS ramp. The Doctor went down with her, cradling her body around his own and rocking her back and forth in a soothing manner.

"Amy, I'm so, so, sorry," the Doctor whispered into her neck, pressing kisses there. Amy, who still had tears dried onto her cheeks, looked up and stared into his eyes.

"I wanted her to be yours," Amy whispered, her voice breaking. "I wanted to give you a Time Lord."

The Doctor pressed his forehead against Amy's and tilted his head, wincing, "Amelia Pond. My Amelia." His lips found hers and when they kissed, it wasn't for passion, like it had been in the past. It was for comfort. It was slow and unsure and so delicate, like porcelain. The Doctor positioned Amy on top of him so he didn't squash her and he lay them back onto the ramp flooring.

Amy kissed him back, softly and smoothly and with so much pain and guilt and love. How she fantasised about leaving Rory and running away with her raggedy man. At first, it was just guilt keeping her there with Rory. And then the universe rebooted and it made her marry a man she wasn't in love with, and then an unexpected unplanned pregnancy popped up. Amy suspected there might be someone behind the scenes, pulling all the strings to keep her and Rory together.

The Doctor suspected there was someone pulling the strings with River as well. She had just kissed him, the last time he dropped her off at the Stormcage Containment Facility. He pulled away, refused to tell Amy and promised himself to make sure it never happened again, but still, she had just _kissed_ him, like it was some kind of _norm_ with them. Finding out that he'd tongued the woman he was in love with's daughter was less than thrilling but River had a habit of imposing herself on the best of people.

The Doctor and Amy made love on the TARDIS ramp that night. It was slow and passionate, and all about losing themselves in one another. Trying to find a sense of reality to hold onto. The Doctor, filled with guilt about Melody, and Amy, trying to escape the paralysing pain of knowing that she was missing out on her daughter's most crucial years. The guilt over the fact that she was sleeping with River's potential future husband didn't bother her, because Amy was there first. It didn't matter that River met the Doctor before she did. He was her raggedy Doctor.

Everything came to a head again when they visited that hotel. The one that contained everyone's fears. Amy's faith – Amy's love – for the Doctor had brought them there. The Doctor had to destroy the one thing that he was still proud of having; Amy's faith. He hated himself, because she had worked him up inside of her head, as being unstoppable, and he wasn't. He really was just a madman in a box. It was at this point that he had to drive home a few other points. He had to stop making love to her, stop kissing her, and holding her and touching her, because one day he was going to get her killed and it was going to be his fault. He had to do something and he knew he did. That's why he said what he said. To free her.

_I've stolen your childhood and now I've lead you by the hand to your death._

_Forget your faith in me._

_The girl who waited for me. I'm not a hero. I really am just a madman in a box._

_It's time we saw each other as we really are._

_Amy Williams._

_It's time to stop waiting._

He whispered her name, and it shocked her. That he was telling her that they had to stop whatever was going on between them. _Amy Williams._ He added that, just to drive home, that she wasn't his wife, she was Rory's. He was trying to save her and it was working. Amy's faith in the Doctor died that day, but only for a little while. When he dropped them off in London and gave them their own flat, her faith in him was just restored, stronger than ever.

He was doing this to save her. And she loved him for it.

The thing that almost destroyed her came quite close after that. The Wedding of River Song. Amy, who obviously had a different approach to River now that she knew that she was her daughter, knew deep down that the Doctor wouldn't have chosen River in any ordinary circumstances. River refused to kill the Doctor, creating a paradox, an alternative timeline where time and history all happened at once.

The only way that River would kill him, was if the Doctor was able to let her in on the secret of his Teselecta, which is why – and he still regrets doing this – he asked Amy and Rory for their permission to theoretically marry River, just to have an excuse for her to look into his eyes. He did it for Amy, really. Any other reason and she would have known something was up. She hated every single of it, but she did it, because deep down, she knew it was probably always meant to end like this. He told River to look into his eyes and she saw the tiny Doctor inside.

River and the Doctor kissed and time started again. The Teselecta Doctor died and the real Doctor was safely hidden away, the only one knowing his secret survival being River. She had shown him incredible loyalty in the past and of course, sacrificing herself in his first meeting of her just so that he could live. She had to be trusted. Amy would get over his death, the Doctor thought. She would carry on with Rory and they would probably have lots of other children.

The Doctor would just become a distant memory now.

But he couldn't stay away. She was his Amy and he missed her like he missed the suns on Gallifrey. And it was Christmas, after all. After Rory went to bed, Amy and the Doctor sat outside in the garden beside one another as it began to snow.

"So you married my daughter then," Amy said tensely.

"In an alternative timeline that never happened," the Doctor argued quickly, "I only did it to have an excuse for her to look into my eyes and see me."

"Don't hurt her," Amy snapped suddenly, "She may seem all flirty and feisty, but she loves you."

"And I love you," the Doctor said easily.

Amy looked at him through the snow. "I know," she said softly. "It's always just been bad timing with us, hasn't it?"

"It's my fault," the Doctor reached over and intertwined their fingers, "If I hadn't been twelve years late the first time, I would have fixed you sooner, fixed the crack sooner, you would have grown up with me. Instead of Rory."

"It's my fault, as well," Amy whispered sadly. "Remember Venice? Rory was talking about calling off the wedding and I stalled him, asked him to come along with us? I should have told him then and there that it was off. If I had done that, we would be together right now and I would have been pregnant with your baby. Not that I regret River, because I don't, and I wouldn't change a single second of it if I could, but sometimes I want to."

"Life got in the way," the Doctor sighed.

"There's nothing we can do to change this, is there?" Amy asked him. "River still thinks you're married to her, even though it technically didn't happen. And I can't hurt her, Doctor. She's my daughter. I love her too much."

The Doctor looked up to the sky, pensive, and then back down to the ground of snow. He hadn't been with Amy in so long. All he wanted was to reach out and kiss her parted cold lips, run his fingers through her long red hair and make love to her.

"After all this time," Amy stood up in front of him, "And I already know what you're thinking." She pulled off her Christmas jumper to reveal a blouse, that she slowly started to unbutton, revealing a black lacy bra underneath. The Doctor swallowed, watching his beautiful Amelia.

"Amy, we said we'd stop this," the Doctor didn't know why he was saying these words, but there felt like there should be at least one person with a level head.

Amy pulled off her jeans and stood, naked in her back garden. The Doctor licked his lips. "I know," Amy whispered back, "And if you can walk away from me right now, and never come back, then I will drop this completely."

The Doctor stood up, glancing at her with a guilty expression. Of course he could never walked away from her. She was his Amelia and he was her raggedy Doctor. He closed the distance between them and captured her lips. She sighed his name in little seductive gasps and the Doctor realised just how much he missed her.

Despite the cold freezing temperature, they had sex on the snow covered grass. Amy on top of the Doctor and then the other way around. Snow fell all around them and the sounds of their panting noises mingled in with the rustle of the wind.

Amy finally felt complete being with the Doctor again. They were each other's missing jigsaw puzzles. The Doctor pushed Amy's porcelain skin into the snow and admired how beautiful that contrast looked against the snow. Creamy skin and flame red hair. He kissed every inch of her body, made her shriek his name in sounds he'd never even heard before and savoured every moment of their naked bodies pressed against each other.

The only thing they didn't realise was that Rory Williams was standing at the window, watching them.

Amy and Rory's divorce was inevitable enough. Rory was bitter about the whole thing but he had every reason to be and nobody blamed him. The Doctor hung his head in shame and Amy felt dreadfully sorry about the whole affair, but now that that it was out in the open, Amy finally felt that one step closer to the Doctor. One step closer to being back with him. Amy tried to make Rory understand. She did honestly love him, she would do anything for him, but she wasn't in love with him. She hadn't ever been. She couldn't be, because the Doctor was always in her heart first.

Rory shouted, threw things and cried, but he told Amy that he understood and that he couldn't delude himself into thinking there was anymore chances. Amy was glad Rory didn't put up a fight with their divorce. It all worked out though. In the end, Rory married a lovely girl, called Nina Gerald and they went on to have five children and ten grandchildren. Rory was a successful nurse, and then eventually a doctor and Nina was a secretary that worked in the heart of London. Over time he was able to let go of some of his anger, but it would never completely subside.

Amy moved back into the TARDIS full time and was determined to handle things better with River than she had with Rory. She couldn't help pinching herself every time she causally kissed the Doctor, or when he snuck up behind her and began to kiss her neck. This was everything they ever wanted, and everything they could never have. There was a quiet moment one day when Amy found the Doctor under the console working. She took the steps and lay down beside him, touching his cheek lightly. He smiled, enjoying her touch as he continued to work.

"What's the matter, Pond?" the Doctor asked, "I can tell when something is up."

"Doctor, do you remember Liz 10?" Amy whispered.

The Doctor stopped what he was going and propped himself up on his elbows. "From Starship UK? Starwhale Starship UK?"

Amy nodded.

The Doctor went back to pottering under the console. "What about her?"

"Well," Amy closed her eyes, wincing, "She said her government slowed her body clock down, so that it would take her longer to age, right? She was what, three hundred when we met her... and when River tried to steal that Van Gogh of the TARDIS blowing up, that was 5145 and Liz 10 was the guardian of the Royal Collection, right? Which would have made her like over two thousand years old."

The Doctor glanced at her, "Where are you going with this, Amy?"

"Do that to me," Amy blurted out, "Slow down my body clock. If the government in the future can do it then so can you. I mean it. I want to be with you, until you take your last breath."

"Amy," the Doctor let out a deep sigh, "It's not that simple. There'll be consequences, lots of them. You won't be able to have kids after a certain point, you'll find it difficult to sleep and you'll probably watch everyone human you love back home die."

"Doctor, I made my choice. You're my choice. You're my home. The TARDIS is my home," Amy told him with a steely resolve, "I'm never leaving it again."

"Okay," the Doctor said, grinning slowly. "Amelia Pond. The Girl who waited."

"Doctor. My raggedy man," Amy grinned right back. "You can do it after I've given birth to our baby. Don't want any complications during pregnancy, a Time Lord baby might be more than I can handle."

The Doctor's head snapped round. "What?" he cried, "What did you say?"

Amy couldn't help but laugh a little, "I'm pregnant, Doctor."

He smothered her with his arms, hugging her tightly and placing his hands on her stomach. "I can feel them!"

Amy balked, "_Them_? Did you just say them? Doctor? _Doctor_?"

The Doctor glanced up to her, distracted, "What? Of course it's a them! Twins, a girl and boy."

"What? Is that normal?" Amy shrieked, "What if my human body fails or shuts down or something?"

"Amy," the Doctor chuckled warmly, "You gave birth to Melody, who was basically a Time Lady, a child of the TARDIS. Your body can handle this. I'll make sure of it. No more running about or dangerous adventures, okay?"

"Boring," Amy rolled her eyes.

"I love you," the Doctor told her seriously and Amy looked at him with all the love that had survived them.

It took River a while to come round, but she did eventually. River even admitted herself that monogamy might not be her thing after all. Amy gave birth to two Gallifreyan twins, a girl and a boy. Jessica and Jack Pond. Amy's body clock was slowed down and eventually she left Earth behind for good. There was nothing of interest to her there. Time flew and Rory died, as did everyone else. Amy outlived them of course and while it was a horrible sad thing, she still had her family in the TARDIS. River popped in and out occasionally and it wasn't as awkward with the Doctor as it used to be. She never settled down but she managed to date a variety of people; humans (men and women), robots, aliens, even a half fish half cyborg. River certainly got around.

Amelia Pond was in her study aboard the TARDIS one evening, just finishing writing the last sentence in the memoir book when her husband knocked on the door and entered.

"What are you writing, Pond?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm just finishing my book," Amelia told him with a smile, "The Story of Amelia Pond. I'm going to leave it in a museum somewhere, let it collect dust and everything."

"I think I shall have to read it first," the Doctor leaned over the table.

"Only if you promise not to correct my spelling," Amy stood up and kissed her husband from across the table.

"I make no promises!" the Doctor cried, clapping his hands together. "Let's go out today. I've got a special surprise planned for you and the kids. Come on!"

Amy left her memoir behind as she took the Doctor's hand and let him lead her away.

_This is the story of Amelia Pond._

_And this is how it begins._


End file.
